


Counting Stars

by Myrime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Out Again, Azkaban, Falling In Love, Kissing, Love, M/M, They need a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8535763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrime/pseuds/Myrime
Summary: Their first kiss does not really matter. It is the third one that stays with them forever.





	

Their first kiss does not really matter, because it is careful and nervous and uncertain and afterwards they drown it in muttered words and reassurances and making sure no one has seen.

But the second, months later, when they feel grown up enough and torn enough to dare it again, is different. More real and somehow less, too.

The first time, Sirius initiates the kiss, and that kind of makes sense because Sirius always does things and he never thinks about what comes after.

(He also does things for no reason at all, at times, so maybe that is what makes them doubt.)

But the second time, it is Remus making those needed two steps to cross the distance between them and pressing his lips to Sirius’, and somehow it is not awkward because Remus never does anything when he is not sure about it, so when he decides to kiss his best friend, it cannot be wrong, right?

Sirius does not start thinking until much later, until the feeling of electricity running through his veins is gone and his mouth does not taste like chocolate anymore, and even then he does not regret it, because that second kiss means that he is not the only one who kept thinking about that sloppy first time, that he is not imagining things when he looks at his friend and sees something more, something far better, something like home and safety and future.

But it is not until the third time, that they start talking. It is Sirius’ turn again (though this is not something to keep tabs on, he is just more daring) and his lips are hungry, maybe a bit rough, and the kiss lacks those almost hesitating first seconds, which would have given Remus a chance to draw back. It is all or nothing with Sirius, and both of them know. They would not have it any other way.

So they crush their mouths together, and they do not part until James’ and Peter’s laughs are almost through the door to their dorm. And even then they do not turn fully away from each other, not willing to miss that little flame in their eyes or their flushed cheeks, and maybe they would not have cared if the other Marauders had found out, but they do not, because those two are – somehow – still children, while Sirius and Remus are already grown up in their own way.

And when all curtains are closed that night, Remus leaves his own bed for the warmth of the one right next to him, knowing full well he will be expected. And they do not talk at first, because their lips on each other have a language of their own that tells more than words ever could and somehow they need that reassurance.

Finally – and way too soon – they settle down, inches apart but not touching, trying to weave the silence around them into the words their mouths seem unable to form.

“It’s –” Sirius starts and trails off again, fully aware of how inadequate English has become. What to say to this? _Good. Wonderful. Terrifying. Different. Complicated. Like a star ready to explode. Like the sun rising and brilliant red covering their world and warmth spreading and life starting to wake and –_

“Right,” Remus states, and his eyes leave no doubt he feels exactly the same. “It feels right,” he repeats, and nods his head as if to emphasize that truth.

And Sirius almost laughs, but it catches in his throat and then their lips find each other again and they can share it anyway.

When Remus raises his hand, fire trails across Sirius’ skin, burning and teasing and demanding more while making him feel as if any second longer could make him burst with pent-up energy. He grins like a madman when he lays his own finger right on top of Remus’ heart and feels the beat, erratic and strong and entirely in tact with his own. 

That night seems to last an eternity and they do not bother with the blanket because their own body heat is more than enough to make them feel safe and sound. It is almost as if they are finally complete after stumbling around in the dark alone for the first, dull part of their lives and they do not care what anyone else might think, because it is like the world has stopped turning there for a moment and now it is on track again and they are right in the middle of it.

“The both of you were so silent yesterday evening, so we let you sleep. Thought you were coming down with something,” James announces when they finally find their way to the Great Hall the next morning.

And they only smile in answer, still giddy with that pure energy flowing through their veins They cannot stop themselves from looking at each other as if to make sure it was not a dream and that silent, exhilarating feeling is still there whenever their gazes meet.

“So, are you up for some fun?” James continues and does not notice the excited twin grins on his friends’ faces, because how could he know that _their_ adventure has already begun. And they never hear his plan for a prank on some other, less important person they cannot remember existing right now.

They lose count of the kisses after that night, though it feels like every single one leaves a mark on their hearts. And they do not become less needed, less _magical_ , only easier given and received.

Every following kiss is almost another _third_ because they are just as hungry and new and promising and ultimately breathtaking.

And, someday, they even say those three dreaded words, which Sirius never knew growing up, and Remus always feared because it meant people getting hurt on his behalf.

But with them, it is alright, somehow, and terribly inadequate, too, because how could one word ever describe what it is that makes them reeling with happiness, and weak with longing, and feeling complete and whole and wanted and _enough_.

When they leave Hogwarts it truly is like their lives are only just beginning, because suddenly there is no more need for closed curtains and secret meeting places. They can touch every second of the day and snog the life out of each other and strut around in only a shirt of their other half and scream their love out into the night and –

There are also the bad kisses, meant to hurt what they hold closest to their hearts, but they come far later and far too soon, because passion like theirs should not be restricted by time – or undone by doubts of all things.

But they do doubt and they do hurt, and they can almost see that precious thing they had shatter between their hands and none of them tries to pick it up and piece it together again because they know they would only cut themselves and they are bleeding enough already.

And then it is over and Sirius laughs because he cannot believe how blind he has been and how stupid. He never expected it to hurt so much to think of Remus falling for this lie that broke them, and he wants to run and bury himself in Remus’ arms to block out the terrifying reality around them, but he knows that is not possible because, suddenly, _he_ ’s the traitor, _he_ ’s the one guilty of tearing their world apart.

And he does not protest when he is brought away, because it is his fault and he just does not know how to repair the damage done.

 

* * *

 

 

Sirius still remembers their second kiss as their best, the one most true and pure – and the most bitter, too, because it is clearly the very evidence that Remus could not have been the traitor.

Back then, he chose _him_ , and therefore their side and their cause. So how could he have doubted that and what they had, even while his heart was still longing for their connection and his heartbeat sped up whenever they were close to each other and his fingers itched to touch the body he used to know so well?

“It’s right,” Remus had said and Sirius was wrong and they had all paid for it, James and Remus and he himself and even little Peter. It never stops and he cannot do a single thing to make it better again. He has destroyed everything and is that not his curse, to go and fuck it all up because he never thinks before doing anything?

But that time he thought too much, didn’t he? He made up stupid explanations in his head and did not listen to his heart proving him wrong over and over again, because even while accusing Remus of _betraying_ them, he longed so very much for his lips and hands and gentle eyes.

But Remus’ eyes are not gentle in his memories. Neither are they accusing, they are just sad, like they always got when someone pushed him away, because he always thought he did not deserve better.

And Sirius could howl and rage because he put that look there, where he had once seen only warmth and love and life. He is almost glad Remus is not here with him, for how could he ever manage to live through that burning gaze lingering on him in real, and feeling the disappointment and the unspoken _why?_  

He remembers it all with bitterness now, so the dementors cannot really take it from him and he does not know if he is glad for that or if it would not be better to just forget so he could go mad and die in peace.

But he will not die. He knows that because he has never taken the easy way out and that thought speeds up his heart rate. Remus is still out there, alive and (all but) well and he just has to believe him and then they would kiss and hold onto each other, and somehow everything could be alright again and he would forgive himself and Remus would forgive him and James and Lily would forgive him and their sun would rise again and –

Padfoot dreams and there is always warmth in his thoughts and, sometimes, when he wakes and becomes Sirius again, his mouth tastes like chocolate, and that is something even all the cold and despair of Azkaban cannot take from him.

And he hopes.

And, somehow, he believes that, someday, he will be going home.


End file.
